<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Hematolagnia by CarnemDevorare</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28374450">Hematolagnia</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnemDevorare/pseuds/CarnemDevorare'>CarnemDevorare</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Creepypasta - Fandom</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Gore, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, F/M, Graphic, Kidnapping, Non-Consensual Violence, POV Second Person, Slow To Update, Stalking, i'll add tags as i go</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:01:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,424</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28374450</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CarnemDevorare/pseuds/CarnemDevorare</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jefferey Woods x Reader</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jeffrey Woods | Jeff the Killer/Reader</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Hematolagnia</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I will be slow to update as I'm working on this along with other stories on my accounts. Please leave feedback and bully me if you want a new chapter! &lt;3</p>
<p> </p>
<p>WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Blood and Gore, Murder of Underaged Persons</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Most prey was easy. </p>
<p>Find them.<br/>Learn about them. <br/>Watch them. </p>
<p>If the subject had many attachments, (family, close friends, lovers, etc) it could take up to a few weeks, maybe a month if it was worth it. </p>
<p>But in any strategy, any subject, lifestyle. None of this matters, the outcome will always be the same. </p>
<p>Dance in their Blood </p>
<p>The sight of it, the smell. It was all intoxicating, feeding an addiction that will last to the end of time. </p>
<p>At least his time. </p>
<p>Jeff normally struggled with patience. But like an artist to their work, the outcome is what is longed for. And the chase, if given one, was just as exciting. </p>
<p>Jeff made good work of this family. Thirteen days. Thirteen days to discover every vulnerability they had. The most amusing part is, none of them ever expect anything! No one ever does. No one ever has.</p>
<p>He always preys on the privileged, enjoying the idea of prying them of all their dreams, desires, values. Making them understand that they are worth nothing in the end. Money never buys happiness or safety for that matter. </p>
<p>The alarm system was simple, easy to reset everything. A child could figure it out. The system installment could be seen through the back door window of the first floor. The plush rubber buttons lighting up with every push. Like a game of simon, easy to memorize. A four-digit combination.</p>
<p>When the time was just too perfect, Jeff made his move. </p>
<p>In the afternoon he followed behind the man of the house through the back door, stepping with his steps. Never breathing too loud. He observed that the man took an hour long break in between shifts, returning home to relax or have lunch. During this, no one else was in the house until 4:00 pm rolled around. So this was as good as an opportunity as it got.</p>
<p>Silently he was able to dip into the basement, and hide in a perfectly spacious corner walled off by tall plastic crates of various junk. Labeled drawn on with sharpie. </p>
<p>When the slightly overweight middle-aged man had left again, he took his sweet time to disarm the house and study every room. Every possible escape, every hiding place. </p>
<p>A man, a woman, two teenage children. Unexpecting and wonderfully naive. </p>
<p>He planned his moves delicately in his head for hours, until every member had returned home. He listened to them talk. Their footsteps echoing against the hardwood of the house. He listened and waited till there were no more sounds to be made.  The sun had set long ago and the house was locked, but not armed. </p>
<p>Jeff waited a while longer, for good measure. He checked his burner phone, reading 1:04 am. Good enough. </p>
<p>He navigated through the crowded basement, careful with his footing. The steps were made of concrete, making his ascension to the main floor silent. Not even the door creaked when he opened it. </p>
<p>Flat soles of his converse shuffled through the doorway and into the kitchen, from the living room he could see a pale blue light of the television. The man was sprawled on the leather couch, snoring loudly with his mouth hung open. </p>
<p>He watched, eyes traveling from the man to the carpeted stairway that led up to the second floor. Silent, all except for the sound of the TV and gargled snoring. </p>
<p>Jeff clicked his tongue and walked to the back of the couch, towering over the sleeping man. </p>
<p>"Too easy." He mused to himself, taking his beloved steel knife from the pocket of his white hoodie. He twirled it effortlessly between his pale fingers, sneering at the face of this man's dead sleep. His breath hot and reeking of booze. </p>
<p>In swift movements Jeff leaned over him, one hand clamping around his victim's mouth while the other pressed the head of the knife to his throat. </p>
<p>His eyes opened wide looking directly into Jeffs with pinpoint pupils. Jeff smiled, baring his teeth as he penetrated the knife into his flesh with ease. A muffled scream met Jeff's hand before the warm wet sensation of blood pooling from his mouth. </p>
<p>He let go, watching the portly man fall forward, desperately trying to hold and piece his throat back together. Gagging and struggling he slid off the couch to the floor, his knuckles white from the pleading grip on his own throat. Or perhaps his hands were white from the blood leaving his body. </p>
<p>Jeff snickered, stepping around the couch and over the man's body. He writhed quietly, still gasping only to swallow more of his own blood. He coughed, trying to form a sound. A warning. A cry. </p>
<p>Jeff squatted down to his level, putting his finger to his dry scarred lips. </p>
<p>"Shhhh... You don't want to wake them do you?" </p>
<p>Before the fight had left the man, Jeff straddled his back pinning the man down on his stomach. With both hands he gripped the handle of the knife, raising it above his head before bringing it down on his victim's spine. Then again. </p>
<p>Then again. </p>
<p>And again. </p>
<p>And again. </p>
<p>And again. </p>
<p>And again.</p>
<p>And again.</p>
<p>AND AGAIN. </p>
<p>He lost count. Jeff didn't slow until his hands were coated in comfortable warm crimson. The man had long stopped moving from the first or second stab. Certainly perforated both lungs and some organs more than once. But this was just too good. </p>
<p>The victorian carpet of their living room now darkened with a growing puddle of blood. </p>
<p>Satisfied, Jeff got off of him, adoring his own work. </p>
<p>He wiped the knife on his black jeans before turning and making his way up the stairs. He could care less now about the creaking the floorboards made. They would all just assume the old fucker is finally going to bed. As far as they knew there was no one else in their home but them. </p>
<p>So, masquerading himself as the dead man, Jeff opened the first door in the hall. One of the children slept soundly. He would save them for last. The next door to this one was the sibling. He left the doors open to return to later. </p>
<p>The door at the end of the hall opened to a much larger room, the master bedroom. The woman's figure laid on the left side of the tall bed. Her chest rising and falling in a slow and steady rhythm. </p>
<p>Jeff stepped quietly to her side of the bed, standing before her. Watching her sleeping, blissful face. The rest of her was buried under the thick comforter up to the neck. This wouldn't do.</p>
<p>He took one edge of the cover and threw it off of her. She stirred, shifting, and groaning in stupor. </p>
<p>"Aaron?" She yawned softly, not opening her eyes. </p>
<p>"It's Jeff, actually." He chuckled.</p>
<p>Her eyes shot open, and in the same moment Jeff brought the knife down on her chest. Thrusting right past the sternum. Her scream was taken from her lungs before any sound came out. </p>
<p>He pulled the knife down on her body, slicing much easier through her soft gut. He dissected her like he was dressing a game deer. </p>
<p>He smiled wickedly watching as her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her tongue lolled back, a fountain of red pouring from her mouth. </p>
<p>She didn't fight as much as her husband, but Jeff knew her death still hadn't come. He plunged his hand into the cavity in her stomach, taking a fistful of a slimy pink tangle of intestines. He pulled them from her, leaving her empty of all weight in her middle. </p>
<p>He waved them in front of her face, bile and blood dripping from them. </p>
<p>"So pretty, huh?" Jeff cocked his head to the side, stretching the long organ between his hands. But she was well dead by now from his assault on her organs. </p>
<p>Still caught up in his own amusement, he gripped either side and pulled them apart. A yellow hot fluid mixed with the pink of blood spilled from it. He watched it dribble out before tossing it haphazardly back onto her body. </p>
<p>He left the room, deciding again that the kids deserved much kinder treatment. He always did this. A silent, brief penetration into the jugular. As painless as he could make it. </p>
<p>They didn't even stir in their slumber. </p>
<p>Jeff sighed deeply, making his way back down the stairs. He walked toward the kitchen, only to stop in front of a slick puddle of blood that had traveled from the body of the man. He stepped over it, noting to himself that leaving footprints was just unprofessional. </p>
<p>He opened the chrome fridge, shuffling around for a good drink or a snack. Beer would do fine, seeing as most of the food was fresh, meant to be prepped and cooked. </p>
<p>He cracked open a can of the blue labeled beer, taking deep gulps. He sighed and licked his lips, looking down at the mess of stains he had adorned on his hoodie. What a bitch to clean, but its all just so worth it. </p>
<p>He left the same way he came in, taking an extra precaution and locking the door behind him. Like he was never there. Taking another sip of beer he strode down the driveway, his hood up. </p>
<p>He walked for a while, watching the moon start to lower itself toward the horizon. The stars shivering in the darkness that swallowed them.</p>
<p>Entering a more rural part of town, the houses became small or turned into dirty little apartment complexes. </p>
<p>Not a soul was out tonight. </p>
<p>Not a soul except for you.</p>
<p>A figure walked slowly down the broken sidewalk, cloaked by a black wool pea coat. </p>
<p>Oh? Another one? So easy, just for him.</p>
<p>A smirk widened across his torn face. He changed paces, tossing the near empty can behind him in the grass. Then walked across the empty road to meet your side. As quiet as ever. </p>
<p>He followed you, feet landing in the same weight and pace as yours. Taking time to study how you presented yourself. Black coat. Black Dr. Martens boots. And an equally black velvet boaters hat crowned upon your head. </p>
<p>As he followed behind you, he made sure distancing himself ten feet or so. Matching every step with yours to mask the sound of his own footfalls. </p>
<p>Female. Dressed nice. Alone</p>
<p>Nice was an understatement. He saw the black gloves, studded with sliver pellets along the knuckles. Your leather purse hung lazily to your side. You looked elegant, mysterious like a walking shadow in the night.</p>
<p>Perfect. </p>
<p>At that moment he wanted you. He hadn't even seen your face and he watched to see the way you contorted when you screamed. He wanted to see what shade of red you would bleed. </p>
<p>He closed the distance slowly, debating on if he should follow you home or take you right here and now while he chewed the peeling skin of his bottom lip.</p>
<p>He studied the (H/C) locks sway behind you from under the hat as you stride. Totally unaware of your stalker. Or at least that's what he thought. What could you be doing walking by yourself this late at night? How careless. How stupid. </p>
<p>Maybe you lived alone? He loved the idea of that.</p>
<p>You shoulders rose and there was a pause in your step. Then you started to walk faster. Jeffs jaw clinched, knowing you felt him behind you. </p>
<p>Do it now. </p>
<p>He shuffled for the stained knife in his pocket, taking it out and bringing himself to an even faster pace, coming close behind you. </p>
<p>Without looking back, you broke into a sprint of pure panic. Oh now, this would make it so much more fun. He just adored them when they struggled. When they ran. </p>
<p>Jeff was bigger, stronger, faster. It didn't take long to catch up to you, extending his hand to grip the free strands of hair. </p>
<p>Before he could you turned, holding the barrel of a handgun toward him, aimed straight at his head. </p>
<p>He stopped abruptly, knowing he was well out armed. He wasn't worried about the gun more than he was worried about the sound. The last thing he needed was to draw too much attention. Silently, he cursed himself for not grabbing you sooner. But his frustration turned to a smirk when he saw your hands quivering around the grip of the gun.</p>
<p>"S-stay away from me!" You yelled, trying to hide your obvious terror. But Jeff could smell the fear. </p>
<p>The shaking only worsened at the sight of his blood-soaked apparel. His knife confidently gripped in his dominant hand. </p>
<p>"Well, for a moment I was going to say it's not a good idea for a little lady like you to be out here all by herself." He laughed and waved the knife in front of his face. </p>
<p>"But it looks like you can take care of yourself." </p>
<p>The shaking never ceased, but only seemed to increase as you lost your composure completely. The shaking of your hands traveling from your fingertips to your limbs and throughout your body until you were a quivering mess. The barrel shook with you. Even if you took the shot there could be no guarantee of accuracy. And if you miss, you'd expect retaliation. </p>
<p>So you stood at a stalemate in front of this monstrous looking man. His mouth torn into an ugly cheshire smile from ear to ear. His skin so paperwhite it was almost translucent. And dark bloodshot eyes fixated on you like you were his last meal. </p>
<p>"I don't think you even know how to use that thing." He snickered, taking one step closer. </p>
<p>You tightened your grip, knuckles white as you seethed through your teeth. </p>
<p>"Try me mother fucker." The venom dripping from your voice. False intimdation.</p>
<p>Jeff then tilted his head and raised his hands in mock defense, shifting his feet and taking his step back. His smile couldn't get any bigger. </p>
<p>"Alright alright," He pocketed his knife, letting his hands rest in the hoodie pouch. </p>
<p>"Whats your name sweetie?" </p>
<p>You sneered, still not dropping your aim. "Like I'd tell you." </p>
<p>Jeff sighed and rolled his eyes, backing up from you and slowly stalking around. Walking off of the sidewalk and into the grass. Making his way between the yards of nearby crackerbox homes.</p>
<p>"I guess I'll have to find out for myself." He said behind his shoulder before he disappeared into the dark.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>